


Reconnection

by rogue_1102



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Married Couple, One Shot, Post-Majin Buu Saga, Sleep Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 16:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogue_1102/pseuds/rogue_1102
Summary: He didn’t need to hear about the pain she felt at his death. She didn’t need to hear about his regret. They knew, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of them together.





	Reconnection

He was alive. The earth was, again, in its rightful place.

The Saiyan prince stared at the cityscape that filled the panoramic window. The lights twinkled like pseudo-stars and there was a pale green hue above the city from the accompanying light pollution. It was, in its own way, beautiful. He did not think he would see this sight again and, if was being honest with himself, he was glad he had the chance.

He glanced down at the naked body next to him, which had fallen asleep long ago. The time preceding the final confrontation had been emotionally, and physically draining for all of them; however, while Kakarot’s harridan of a wife had fainted like a weakling, his blue-haired consort had comported herself like a true leader. She’d behaved like a queen, taking charge and making decisions for the rag-tag group of warriors: Or, so he’d assumed by the tale that an excited and overly affectionate Trunks had relayed when he’d arrived back on the Lookout with Kakarot.

When he rejoined his family, she didn’t cry or vomit affection on him like an emotionally constipated child. She had nodded, and smiled. That is all that was required. Now, hours later, he was back in their bed silently reliving the battle he had fought and the decisions that he’d made.

_ I’m quite pleased with the results, even if they do come at a price. I’d say the ends more than justify the means. _

The price: yes, that is what kept him awake. Years ago, he had pushed himself towards the level of Super Saiyan when he purged all feelings and desires from himself. For a brief and beautiful moment, he had been the superior being.

But, it was not he would had defeated Cell or avenged the death of his progeny. Some could say that he was no more than a footnote, barely worthy of mention in the annals of history.

He had given into the temptation. The honeyed words that were spoken, and the shame he was forced to re experience, had done nothing but steeled his resolve on the path that was laid before him.

When the buffoon had questioned his actions, he had responded with no shame.

_I wanted him to return me to the way I was before! I was the perfect warrior, cold and ruthless, I lived by my strength alone uninhibited by emotion. I awoke one day to find that I had settled down, formed a family. He has freed me of these petty attachments, and I have to say it feels pretty good. _

In hindsight, he could acknowledge that he had lied - to himself and to Kakarot. He had known he would regret cutting his ties with the boy and the woman on his adopted planet; however, he reasoned that it was a small thing to pay for the power that was promised. He’d been granted an assured victory over his rival, and that was worth any sacrifice.

Now, after he had experienced the loss of them both, he knew that the cost was too great. His wife and child were more than mere beings that shared the dwelling that he stayed in. They had woven themselves into the fabric of his life. He was a fool: a damned fool if his trip to the other world was any indication.

The woman stirred in her sleep, and inched herself closer to his side of the bed. He decided to give up on his late night musings, and sank under the covers. He gently wrapped his arm around her middle and situated himself in a manner that was comfortable.

Normally, he would refuse the notion of voluntary cuddling. It was, decidedly, for the weak of spirit to need the comfort of another being. If one could not adapt to being alone, then one was not worthy to survive in a cold, and unfeeling universe.

The woman had once teased him, much to his consternation, that he was a closeted cuddler.

_You know, it’s fine to want to cuddle with your beautiful bride._ _You don’t have to be embarrassed_.

When he refuted her statement, with a declaration of the hardiness of spirit that only an elite could hope to obtain, she simply smiled and continued with her conversation as if his protestations meant nothing to her.

Now, he did not care about appearances or pride. He needed, no craved her presence. He wanted the comfort of her body. He released a breath he had not realized he was holding, and allowed his own clothless body to relax into hers.

Her crisp scent wafted towards his nostrils and the Saiyan could not help but release a groan of arousal mixed with a sigh of relief as his wife, his woman, leaned her back into his chest and pushed her rear against his groin. He lay there, motionless and simply enjoyed the feel of their bodies together.

Slowly, after an eternity in his mind, he fingers traced a path from her stomach to curve of her breast and he pressed his hips harder against her rear.

She exhaled: a sound that was breathy and tinged with a moan. A small smirk emerged on his face and he allowed his lips to place small kisses on the curve of her neck that she unconsciously proffered to him while she slept.

His queen was never passive in bed, even in sleep. She gently rocked her hips into his groin, and grabbed his hand from her breast to guide it between her legs. He willed himself to remain calm and not simply demand her attention to his rapidly increasing need. While his fingers stroked and stimulated, he listened to the cadence of her sighs and quickening of her breaths for guidance. His own arousal throbbed, and he attempted to alleviate it by shallowly rutting against her in time with the movements of his fingers.

When his teeth grazed her shoulder, her breathing changed and he knew she was no longer asleep; however, she did not face him. She allowed him to continue his ministrations, and in return she easily guided him inside her. Once completely seated, he paused his movement and, likewise, she lay still. This was not to be a frenetic coupling. This was a rejoining of souls that were abruptly separated.

He didn’t need to hear about the pain she felt at his death. She would not require him to admit his regret. They both knew, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of them together.

Deliberately, and steadily they began to move together. She reached behind her, and grabbed his head pulling it towards her waiting lips. While their bodies moved at a leisurely pace, their mouths plundered each other and reconnected them in a way words never could. The woman managed to extract herself from his grasp, and pushed him back towards the bed. Her blue eyes brokered no argument as she deposited herself on top of his waiting hardness. They moved in tandem - a synchronized dance of flesh that had long been perfected due to the patience and trust between the two partners. 

The night transitioned into the dawn. The covers had long been kicked away, and a sheen of sweat clung to both of their bodies. He had yet to leave her body, and she had not moved to extricate herself from him. He was connected to her, and she to him. He gazed out the window.

The sun was rising over the buildings – its light banishing the darkness in the bedroom, and the sky was a mix of purples and oranges. He looked at the illuminated, naked body next to him and placed a gentle kiss on his wife’s shoulder. Yes, he was glad he had a second chance and he would not waste it this time.

**Author's Note:**

> This was an experimental exercise into whether or not I could successfully complete a composition. 
> 
> Shout out to the lovely Vegebulocracy for providing much needed encouragement.


End file.
